• I left behind my plans in Poland and moved to the US after falling in love with my American husband.
• It took a while to adjust, but I eventually built a career and a life that I loved.
• Now, my husband wants to move to Poland — so we compromised and decided to eventually retire there.

When I first moved from Poland to Austin, Texas, for a short-term internship in my mid-20s, I never intended to stay.

As a new graduate, my goal was to get some hands-on experience in international business practices before returning home to work with my dad and teach fitness classes on the side.

Then I met the man who would become my husband. We crossed paths in downtown Austin, both waiting for a taxi after a night out. We started talking, felt an instant connection, and from that night on, kept finding reasons to see each other.

When the internship ended, I returned to Poland as planned. A long-distance relationship wasn't easy, but we made it work. One month after I left, he flew to Poland, proposed, and suddenly, the life I thought I was building there no longer felt possible.

I left behind a clear-cut path and rebuilt my life

When I moved back to the US and we got married, I left behind more than my country. I walked away from a defined career path, my family business, and the comfort of knowing exactly where I belonged.

Starting over as an immigrant was harder than I expected. As soon as I got my work permit, I took the first job offer I got. I felt pressure to prove — to my family, my friends, and myself — that I was succeeding in America.

Getting a job quickly felt like validation. In hindsight, it was a mistake. The role wasn't right, but I stayed longer than I should have. As a new immigrant, I didn't think I could afford to be selective.

When I became pregnant with my first child, I quit my job and made a difficult but necessary decision: I went back to college. I earned a degree in computer information technology and eventually started a new career in tech.

For the first time since moving to the US, I felt stable again. I had rebuilt my confidence and proven to myself that starting over didn't mean starting from nothing.

Still, something was missing. In Poland, I had always envisioned myself running a business. That dream never disappeared.

Alongside my tech career, I started my own fitness coaching business. Through it, I met inspiring women in the US — entrepreneurs, mothers, immigrants — who helped me rediscover my ambition and sense of purpose.

It took nearly 10 years, but slowly, the US started feeling like home.

While I was building a home in Austin, my husband was falling in love with Poland — but we've found a compromise

Just as I felt rooted, my husband started dreaming of the life I once left behind.

Throughout our marriage, we traveled back to Poland often. Over time, my husband fell for the things I once took for granted: the slower pace of life, the food, the walkable cities, the mountain views near my hometown, and the old architecture layered with history.

Eventually, his curiosity turned more serious. He began talking about what daily life there might look like, bringing up how it would feel to enjoy slower mornings and spend more time with my family. After one memorable visit last year, he asked if I'd be open to planning a future in Poland.

The idea no longer felt abstract. I agreed to start looking at property — maybe a piece of land, or even a small house — sometime in the next year or two.

We had a lot of conversations. We discussed our careers, finances, children, and what we wanted our future to look like.

In the end, we compromised: We'll stay in the US for the time being, but buy property in Poland within the next year or two. We'll visit as much as we can and plan to eventually retire there, about three decades from now.

Moving countries for love taught me that rebuilding takes time, and clarity doesn't come all at once. It also taught me that home isn't just about geography, but choosing each other, no matter where you are.

• Americans aren't flocking to Florida like they used to.
• BI spoke with three former Floridians about why they say the state has lost some of its appeal.
• Affordability is a common issue among relocaters, particularly with the state's higher home prices.

Kimberly Jones was born and raised in Florida and expected to live in South Florida for the rest of her life.

But after COVID, Florida no longer felt the same. An influx of out-of-staters strained the infrastructure in Jones' area of South Florida, where new construction, crowded grocery stores, and traffic-jammed commutes became the norm. The flood of newcomers also drove up housing costs, making it harder for longtime residents to afford the place they've always called home.

In 2021, Jones and her husband packed their bags and moved to North Carolina. They're not the only ones who have fallen out of love with Florida. While people are still moving to the state, net domestic migration — or the number of people moving into the state from elsewhere in the country minus those moving out to other parts of the US — has steadily cooled in recent years.

There are a few reasons behind Florida's slowing numbers and waning appeal. For some, the state's tax benefits may no longer outweigh its rising cost of living. That was certainly the case for Jones.

"Our reasons for moving were multifaceted," Jones, 60, told Business Insider. "A major factor was affordability — the cost of living in Florida had gotten out of control. Prices increased for everything — homeowners' and auto insurance, and even for everyday expenses like groceries and eating out. Those costs felt particularly high in South Florida compared with other parts of the state."

The Joneses found a more affordable, more relaxing life in North Carolina

Jones and her husband settled in a small rural town about an hour from Charlotte. They now live in a custom-built lakefront home on 1.5 acres — the kind of property Jones said she couldn't have afforded in Florida.

Indeed, Florida's home prices have continued to climb in recent years. Data from Redfin shows that the median home sale price in Florida increased by 19% between March 2021 and March 2026, reaching $417,000.

With the state's overall cost of living rising, many people — especially young adults, like Jones' son — are finding it difficult to become homeowners.

"My daughter managed to buy a condo a few years ago, when prices were lower, and interest rates were still low," Jones said. "But my son has little chance of buying anytime soon; he'll be renting for the near future, like most of his friends — most of my friends talk about the same thing with their kids."

Besides more affordable housing, Jones and her husband are also enjoying lower home insurance costs, as well as cheaper groceries and restaurant prices in North Carolina. But perhaps the biggest benefit of all is that the lower cost of living has allowed Jones to cut back on work.

"My husband retired a few years ago, and I was able to transition to remote work," Jones said. "We love [North Carolina's] slower pace of life and the fact that people are very nice up here. My quality of life — my stress level, everything — has improved tremendously just from being out of what felt like a rat race."

Natalie Alatriste left Florida in search of a more like-minded community

Natalie Alatriste is also a native Floridian. She remembers a time when her hometown of Miami felt sleepier, and neighborhoods like Little Havana were still under the radar. Today, she said, the city feels transformed.

"There's a pre-COVID Miami and a post-COVID Miami, and the post-COVID version is completely different," Alatriste, 35, told Business Insider. "The cost of living has gone up, and so many people have moved in that traffic is always heavy."

But it was not just Miami's growth that pushed her to reconsider her future in the state. Alatriste said Florida's shifting political landscape was also a factor in her decision.

"In 2024, I seriously started thinking about leaving not just Miami, but Florida entirely," she said. "The state's politics became a turning point for me. During the presidential election, everything I voted for — the amendments, the candidates, all of it — went in the opposite direction."

In 2025, Alatriste moved to Shirlington, a neighborhood in Arlington, Virginia, that's roughly a 20-minute drive from Washington, D.C. She and her partner rent a three-bedroom, three-story townhouse that's about 2,500 square feet, and pay roughly $4,350 a month. It's still expensive, but Alatriste said sharing the cost with a partner makes it easier to handle, and overall, Virginia feels more affordable.

"My quality of life feels much better in Virginia. I don't feel like I'm wasting so much time or spending so much money just to live," she said. "I also have greater peace of mind and can breathe easier because I'm part of a community that feels more aligned with my values."

Karen Meadows wanted a more active retirement

Florida is one of the most popular retirement destinations in the country. It offers plenty of obvious draws, including no state income tax, warm weather, and an abundance of retirement communities. But for some retirees, like Karen Meadows, life spent at the beach or by the pool isn't enough.

"Many people move to Florida to retire because it's quiet and has a slower pace of life," Meadows, 62, told Business Insider. "But for me, I wanted to move somewhere with more energy."

In 2024, Meadows and her husband moved to New York City.

"It's funny because the first thing everybody says about our move is, 'Oh my God, you did the opposite,'" Meadows added, "and they're right."

Meadows sold her home in Panama City Beach and now lives in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom condo in Brooklyn. Though New York still feels intimidating at times, being closer to her kids and living in a vibrant city has made the move worth it.

Beyond training for marathons — including the New York City Marathon and the Boston Marathon, both of which she has run several times — she volunteers with North Brooklyn Angels and the food rescue organization City Harvest. She has also joined the North Brooklyn Runners Club and started a book club.

"I know I probably could have moved somewhere more laid-back, warmer, and with lower taxes, but I love New York," Meadows said. "I'm almost 63, and I feel better and more alive than ever. Life feels freer, I'm more engaged, and there's still so much to explore."

Are you a former Floridian? We want to hear from you. Email the reporter, Alcynna Lloyd, at alloyd@businessinsider.com to share your story.

• My husband and I thought Sweden would bring us our dream life, but logistics made it hard to stay.
• We ended up settling down in a small city in Maine, and surprisingly, we love it even more here.
• The most special part of our new home is the tight-knit, extremely supportive community.

We spent New Year's Eve wearing paper crowns at a cozy New England restaurant that felt like a living room. The owner stopped by our corner booth while he worked the room; our friends, who run their own bakery, slipped away to say hi to some regulars.

My husband leaned over and said, "I love this."

The year before, we had been wall-to-wall at a roller-rink club in Brooklyn. Although we had a good time, sitting in that small-town restaurant — watching fireworks over the river — felt like exactly where we were meant to be.

There was no line, cover fee, or wild countdown. The night that often disappoints simply didn't.

This wasn't where we thought we'd be on the last night of 2025. In June, we'd moved from New York to Sweden, but just four months later, we found ourselves leaving for Maine.

We thought Sweden would be our new home, but circumstances made it temporary

Moving to Sweden in June, I was following a simple idea: When things feel scary in America, the best course of action is to leave.

For a while, it worked. Life felt gentler.

We fell into a mellow rhythm, going to the beach, visiting the many well-maintained conservation areas — including some that go directly through cow pastures — and eating affordable, healthy food from the grocery store.

Although Sweden delivered in real ways, staying required logistical planning and more time than we had. Leaving didn't feel like failure, but choosing something more permanent.

Back in the US, we weren't looking for another major metropolitan area, but a real community. That search led us to a small Maine city just south of Portland, where some of our friends were already living.

With a population of under 23,000, it sounded like a great fit. Friends helped us secure an apartment before we even arrived.

The community here immediately felt unlike anywhere else

We had a rich community in New York, but our friends were more spread out around the city. As soon as we got to Maine, though, we realized we could walk almost anywhere: from our apartment to a friend's place, the pharmacy, a grocery store, and the river.

As a result, our city really feels like home. Now, our friends' bakery isn't just a place to get delicious treats and coffee; it's where we run into — or make — friends in line, and chat about how their winter is going.

We've also seen the way Mainers support each other firsthand. When our moms came to visit, we took them for a coastal drive in our brand-new Volvo and slid straight into a ditch.

We were inches from doing damage and bracing for a tow when a woman and her kids came outside and jumped in to help push us back onto the road.

Within minutes, we were free. They waved while we drove off as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Our community shows up for people in larger-scale ways, too. When a major fire hit the Old Port this winter, destroying boats and fishing equipment, the owner of a local seafood restaurant started selling T-shirts, with proceeds going to the fishermen affected.

More recently, amid Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE)'s enhanced presence in Maine, residents responded immediately. Businesses put up "No ICE" posters, a hotline was established to provide help and resources, and crowds gathered downtown to protest the occupation.

It reaffirmed what I already knew about Maine: When people here think their neighbors are at risk, they take action.

Maine is exactly what we needed

One night, before grabbing cocktails, a group of our friends went to a live storytelling event in a small church.

I was surrounded by new and familiar faces: A former theater kid in his 30s told a story about the state spelling bee. An 80-year-old talked about soapbox racing in Camden.

My own creative work is taking shape here, too. I'm querying a novel, having found a steadier practice and supportive writing scene.

I'm glad I had the opportunity to live abroad, but I'm even happier that I landed in a small US city where people live year-round and expect to see each other for decades.

Sitting in that booth on New Year's Eve, I understood why people here claim this place, and why I'm excited to do the same.

• My friends and family thought I was making a mistake when I moved states for a new relationship.
• At first, I felt homesick, but my partner supported me in a way that validated my decision.
• Now, we're married with kids, and I'm so glad I took a risk on love.

When I was 21, I fell in love for the first time.

Tim and I met online before it was cool. An avid fisherman, sports fanatic, and gifted salesman, he wasn't my usual type — but he was charming, funny, awkward, and sweet. I fell for him, hook, line, and sinker.

There was only one problem. Tim lived in Minneapolis, and I lived in Chicago.

We made long-distance work for as long as we could. On the rare weekends I wasn't waitressing, I traveled to Minnesota for ice fishing and bar hopping. When Tim's schedule allowed, he visited me at my parents' house for family dinners and nights out with friends.

Our time together was fun and exciting, but after seven months of constant travel, we knew we had some decisions to make.

When Tim and I decided to take the next step, I moved to Minnesota

After a four-year collegiate stint in Michigan, I'd sworn to myself that I'd never leave Chicago again. Not only were my family and friends there, but it was comforting and familiar. It was home.

Tim understood my love for Chicago from the moment we met. He was early in his dream career as a salesman, and I hadn't yet decided what I wanted to do professionally. Even so, he reassured me that I would never have to move — that, instead, he would find a way to relocate for me.

The more reassuring he was, though, the more I began seriously considering moving to Minnesota. Logistically, it just made sense.

My family and friends were just as charmed by Tim as I was, but they were skeptical, too. They cautioned me against moving, reminding me that Tim and I hadn't known each other that long.

The more I thought about beginning a new chapter, though, the more right it felt. Whether or not Tim and I lasted, maybe an adventure was exactly what I needed to kick off the adult chapter of my life.

Despite their warnings, I began searching for a job in Minneapolis. When I found a new job and a new roommate in the same week, it felt like fate.

I struggled with homesickness at first, but Tim supported me

My life in Minnesota wasn't what I had imagined. Living away from home was difficult, and I was miserably homesick for weeks. I was also adjusting to life in my first apartment, along with a new, very demanding job.

I was thrilled to be closer to Tim, but the struggles I was experiencing overshadowed much of my joy. Despite these difficulties, Tim remained patient, sure of our relationship, even when my confidence wavered.

On Halloween, my family's favorite holiday, Tim dressed up as a giant piece of pizza to cheer me up. When the first snow fell that season, Tim was waiting in my new apartment with a Christmas tree in tow.

By the time Valentine's Day rolled around, bringing with it chocolate-covered strawberries and three dozen white roses (my favorite), most of my homesickness had faded.

I realized that Tim was my future, wherever we lived

After six months, I finally began to find my footing. My roommate and I developed a strong bond, and I began to branch out into new social circles.

I fell in love with Minnesota in the summertime. I even learned to fish! Turns out, Tim was an excellent teacher.

Tim was my constant, in good times and bad. As the months continued to pass, I began to realize that maybe, this wasn't just the beginning of a new chapter — maybe it was the beginning of forever.

One evening, eight months after I first arrived in Minnesota, Tim invited me out for a casual dinner. I accepted, thinking nothing of it, not even questioning the fact that he wanted us to explore an antique store 15 minutes before our reservation.

I was sifting through a pile of old postcards when I realized that Tim was nowhere to be seen — until I rounded the corner and there he was, on bended knee, a tiny box in his outstretched hand.

We were married that December in Chicago. We spent another year in Minnesota after that, before returning to my hometown for good, putting down roots a few miles from my childhood home.

Thirteen years and six children later, I'm forever grateful that I ignored well-meaning warnings from my friends and family. I may have risked it all on love, but in the end, it was worth it.